


Alone Until You Found Me

by connorssock



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Headaches & Migraines, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sick Character, Sick Gavin, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-08-26 01:28:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16672171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/connorssock/pseuds/connorssock
Summary: The signs should have been obvious but Gavin missed the telltale symptoms of a migraine until it was too late.





	Alone Until You Found Me

The signs of a bad day were usually fairly easy to spot. Gavin had slept through his alarm which meant he was rushing through breakfast, showering, feeding his cat and everything else that he needed to do before getting on his motorbike and weaving through the traffic to get to work almost on time. In all the rush he didn’t spare a moment to think about the headache he’d woken up with, a steady press of soft pain behind his eyes and along the left side of his head. He’d had every intention of taking painkillers for it, but somehow, in the hurry of the morning it had slipped his mind. Now, he was regretting it, as he hunched over his desk and tried to blink the tablet into focus.

His phone rang and it was a summons to a crime scene – something he really could do without. He’d wanted to take a proper lunch break, maybe pop into the pharmacy round the corner to grab some painkillers when he realised there weren’t any in his desk drawer. Typical. Instead, he and Nines got into a patrol car and he drove them to the scene.

The first thing Gavin noticed about it all was the smell. It permeated everything, hung heavy in the air. Usually blood didn’t bother him too much; it was part and parcel of the job but somehow, that day it made his stomach flip queasily. Gavin tried to sip his coffee to settle the wave of nausea and hoped that the caffeine would chase away the pounding which had increased since the car ride.

His hopes were dashed as they walked deeper into the house; the windows were boarded up so forensics had put in bright LED lights that glittered off every vaguely shiny surface possible. It was like walking through a glitter-ball of pain. That’s when it all clicked, Gavin cursed himself for not picking up on the signs of a migraine earlier and then some more when he realised that his pills for it were at home in his gym bag. He gritted his teeth, tried to avoid the lights as much as possible and urged Nines to hurry up with his analysis. The sooner he could get out of the house and away from the smell the better.

It was a long half an hour, painstakingly having to go through the different pieces of evidence, string together what likely happened, and each time Gavin had to crouch down to look at something his entire head throbbed. His vision was like static at the edges and he had to blink tears from his eyes the time a technician knocked a light and it blinded him.

Finally, Nines was done, ascertained that it was likely a red ice high fuelled suicide. They stepped out of the dark house and Gavin gritted his teeth. He was grateful when he remembered he had his sunglasses in a pocket and slipped them on while tossing the keys to Nines.

“Get us back to the precinct, I’m taking a nap.”

He didn’t give Nines a chance to question him, or comment on the fact that until then he’d always insisted on driving. As nonchalantly as possible, Gavin sank into the passenger seat and tipped his head back, eyes closed. The sway and bounce of the car made his nostrils flare but he didn’t give in to the urge to curl up in the seat and hide his face. Instead, he curled his fists tight and tried to focus on the bite of his nails into his palm, mouth slightly open as each breath twisted through him.

At long last they were at the station and Gavin tumbled out of the car, grateful for the reprieve of fresh air over the stale scent of forest fruits of whatever freshener was jammed into the car. It had cloyed his lungs and made each breath a queasy shudder. Nines had cast him a curious glance but Gavin pushed forward, the sooner he could get the debrief meeting over and done with, followed up by the report, the quicker he could get home.

Luck wasn’t on his side, it rarely was. Gavin slumped at the table in the meeting room and let Nines do most of the talking. His headache had mounted into an all-consuming inferno that made it hard to think, let alone speak. Spit pooled thick in his mouth and each time he swallowed it threatened to come up.

“Anything else to add, Detective Reed?” the question echoed in his head and Gavin shook his head, not daring to look up and risking a stabbing flash of pain from the lights overhead.

“Very well, file a report at your earliest convenience.”

Those words were like a blessing. Gavin pushed away from the table and in measured steps left the room. He was losing the battle against his stomach and needed to make it to the bathroom before he made a spectacle.

“You alright, Detective? You look a little green,” Connor’s voice floated past him and Gavin didn’t falter as he continued past the desk.

“Peachy,” he managed to grit out.

Thankfully nobody stopped him again and he just about made it to the toilets, kicked the door shut behind him before he was kneeling over the bowl. His stomach muscles hurt by the ends, coughing up nothing but slimy bile by the end. The coffee in the morning had been a mistake. Another wave of shuddering nausea passed through him and he retched. His t-shirt clung to his back with sweat and Gavin shivered against the sudden cold.

Mind made up, he picked himself off the ground, rinsed his mouth at the sink and made his way to Fowler’s office. Asking for the rest of the day off was easy enough; his boss took one look at him and waved him off. It was almost reassuring to know he didn’t just feel like crap but he looked it too. Without a word to anyone else, Gavin slowly made his way out of the precinct and called himself a taxi – the motorbike would be safe at the precinct until he returned for it the next day.

 

                It was oddly quiet without Gavin at the precinct. Nines assumed he’d gone for a late lunch despite looking out of sorts. His bike was still in the parking lot so he couldn’t have gone far. Yet even after a generous hour his partner still hadn’t returned. It was a cause for concern, despite his usually less than pleasant demeanour; Gavin wasn’t one for skipping out on work. If anything good could be said about him, it was praise for his work ethic.

“Captain,” Nines stuck his head into the office after a polite knock, “is there a case I don’t know about? Gavin’s been gone for almost two hours now.”

“I sent him home sick, he’ll be back soon.”

Fowler’s answer made Nines frown. He quickly pulled up Gavin’s records and noted that the last time he’d been off sick was close to three years ago when he’d got caught in some friendly fire at a scene. Something close to concern flittered through Nines. He resolved to go see Gavin after work, make sure he was going to be alright. With the matter settled for the moment, Nines returned to work.

It was bright and sunny still when he left the station – the joys of summer in full swing. Nines took a taxi to Gavin’s home. It was only when he knocked on the door that he thought about whether it would have been polite to bring a get well soon gift. However, it was too late and there was no reply to his knock. So Nines knocked again, louder. Something shifted in the house but there wasn’t the tell-tale thud and shuffle of footsteps. It gave cause for concern and Nines looked at the door – a classic style lock that needed a key, no doubt to prevent someone hacking it.

Thankfully, he spotted a key-safe fixed to the wall and hidden behind a potted plant. It was a matter of a minute to brute force hack the combination for an android as advanced as him. Nines triumphantly picked the key up and opened the door.

Inside the home it was half dark, the curtains drawn tight. The sofa was in the middle of the room and surrounded by a curious assortment of oddities. There was a mopping bucket that stank of vomit on the floor, a glass of water on the coffee table which had obviously been shoved closer to the sofa. Cat bowls of food and water were next to it with a jug of water. A packet of pills lay discarded, the brand not one Nines was familiar with. Oddly enough the cat litter tray was by the foot of the sofa too, much like someone had pulled all the important things around the seat as though they didn’t plan on leaving the seat any time soon.

Nines was so distracted by the analysis of the surroundings that he almost missed the lump on the sofa. It moved again and Gavin blinked at him through a squint as light spilled in through the door.

“What do you want?” he whispered.

“I came to make sure you’re okay. It’s not like you to take a day off.” Nines stepped in and closed the door behind him. “You’ve been known to be behind your desk with a fever and a cold. I wanted to make sure you weren’t nursing a limb hanging off.”

He expected Gavin to laugh or at least huff out a sarcastic comment but instead he got a wince and Gavin burrowed deeper into the blankets.

“Could you keep your voice down a little please?”

The request was softly muffled and Nines couldn’t help but scan Gavin. It was a long standing argument between them; Gavin hated the idea of an android keeping stats on his every physical reaction so Nines had refrained. But now Nines needed answers that Gavin wasn’t providing.

It was quick to figure things out, noise and light aversion, nausea; a quick search revealed the pills were for migraines. Somehow, it still took Nines by surprise, something as simple as a strong headache could wipe Gavin out so completely.

“Are the pills not helping?” he asked, voice lowered as requested.

“They’d help if I could keep them down,” Gavin replied and Nines paused.

He took another look around the room and couldn’t help the reconstruction program booting up. The shadow of Gavin stumbling through the door already stirred up something in him. But to see him kneeling by the coffee table to push it closer to the sofa, gather the cat’s things and gag as the smell hit him, place them within reaching distance. Taking the pill and five minutes later losing the fight against his rebelling stomach before drawing the curtains, resigned to riding the migraine out. It all spoke of a man so used to being self-reliant that it hurt. There was no evidence of Gavin even expecting someone to come and check on him, simply accepting the fact he was going to battle through this by himself and while he could neglect his work, his cat depended on him for everything.

Something akin to resolve spread through Nines. He didn’t want to be another passing curiosity in Gavin’s life, someone to let him down when things got tough. His preconstruction only took a second if that, another five seconds and Nines was fully up to date on how to deal with a migraine.

A weak protest rose from Gavin as Nines moved things away. The cat’s food and litter tray needed to go in another room to minimise the smell. The bucket he rinsed out, frowned at the pill that Gavin had obviously tried to take, only to heave it back up minutes later and then he walked into the kitchen. A quick scan revealed where he’d find a clean flannel and a hot water bottle. No doubt with how much Gavin had thrown up, his stomach muscles were sore and tense, while a warm, steamed flannel over his eyes might just help him relax and block out the last of the light.

“You’re going to get a sore back on the couch,” Nines said when he returned to the room. “Let’s get you to bed.”

“Why are you even here?” Gavin asked, not making any effort to move.

“Because I care. Now, bedroom.”

“Can’t,” Gavin mumbled.

“I’ll take care of the cat, there’s nothing keeping you here.”

“What if I puke again? The throws here are easier to wash, as is the floor. The carpet in the bedroom isn’t.”

Another quick scan revealed a cleaner patch on the floor and Nines winced at how his preconstructions had missed that. The smell of everything together, overpowering Gavin before he could reach the bucket and having to clean it all up before he could get on the sofa and try to relax. Almost guiltily, Nines looked at him. In the kitchen the microwave beeped, flannel warm and hopefully comforting.

“I’m going to take you to bed now,” he said and as gently as he could, he gathered Gavin in his arms.

There was a soft protest against the motion but Gavin screwed his eyes tight to shut out the sway of movement. In response, Nines tried to walk as smoothly as possible, not jostling the man in his arms, even as he lowered him onto the bed. After tucking him in, Nines darted out of the room for the bucket, the hot water bottle and the flannel.

The sigh Gavin let out when the heat sank into his sore muscles was a reward in itself. Nines carefully smoothed the flannel over his eyes; let his fingers stroke over the swell of his cheeks.

“Try to get some sleep, I’ll be here if you need anything,” Nines tried to encourage him.

He settled on the bed, above the covers and let Gavin curl against his hip. Without much thought, Nines ran a hand through Gavin’s hair before settling on his neck and lightly rubbing the tense muscles there. It earned him a soft sigh.

“Hey Nines?” Gavin’s voice was soft, almost slurred.

“Yes Gavin?”

“Thanks.”

A single word was able to make all of Nines’ defences fall away. He wasn’t doing it for the gratitude, or to have something to lord over Gavin at a later date. Simply, he wanted Gavin to be okay. He stayed on the bed for the rest of the night, cycling through all he knew about migraines and what to expect the following day. After a minute of researching postdrome, Nines sent Fowler a note to say neither he nor Gavin were going to be at work. Sure, Gavin might protest it, but Nines couldn’t in good conscience let him work through the pain hangover when it was possible to stay at home and be looked after.

In the morning, Gavin squinted up at him, sleep rumpled but a little less closed off than before.

“You stayed,” he said with wonder.

“I’ll be here as long as you need,” Nines replied softly.

A little less pain addled, Gavin pushed away from where he was curled around Nines, flustered at his situation. Wordlessly, Nines reached for him and stilled his hands in a gentle grip.

“Relax, you’ve got the day off. Snooze a little more.”

A flush of embarrassment spread across Gavin’s cheeks.

“I hope you weren’t offended by my impression of an octopus. I’ve been told off for being a night snuggled before.”

Silently, Nines vowed to find every idiot who made Gavin feel inadequate for being himself and giving them a piece of his mind. To Gavin though, he smiled.

“It was a pleasurable experience, I did not mind it one bit. Now, are you going to come back and cuddle me a bit more?”

A cheeky grin tipped Gavin’s lips up.

“Are you going to get under the cover for a proper experience?”

As far as invitations went, it wasn’t the smoothest but Nines couldn’t hold back the small smile. Gently, he shrugged out of his jacket and slipped under the warm covers. Immediately arms were wrapping around him and Nines helped tuck Gavin into his side, head resting on his shoulder. It was easy to turn his head from there and press a kiss to the top of Gavin’s head. The pleased grumble he got sent his smile into something wider than the small modest thing he usually found himself giving people.

Though his understanding of human relationships was all based on what he could access and research, he had a feeling that Gavin was going to throw it all out of the window. There wasn’t much Gavin did like most people after all. Usually initiating a relationship involved talking, some negotiations or sexual intimacy before cuddling. Nines found he didn’t actually care as long as he got Gavin to himself in whatever capacity the man was willing to offer.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on tumblr as @connorssock


End file.
